


According to Plan

by FishPrincess



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, F/F, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 07:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3642660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishPrincess/pseuds/FishPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Aranea returns to the dream bubbles after her second death, Damara plans to use it to her advantage. For the Homestuck Rarepair Swap 2015. A response to a prompt by TheChaoMaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	According to Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thechaomaster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thechaomaster/gifts).



Everyone knew what Aranea had done. 

Damara had been in the direct vicinity of these conversations, only steps away from hearing the name of the biggest failure in paradox space. It felt far too recent that her own name was on their lips as the center of sympathy and disdain. She remembered how that version of herself, the one that crumbled under all of their mindless chatter, ceased to be. Seeing how they all stewed amongst themselves, several iterations of the same people, talking and talking and talking -- it made her cringe with disgust. They were all so pathetic, so unaware, and every single last one of them would get what they deserved. 

Lord English would wipe them out, and it was only a matter of time. 

Until then, her curiosity remained. How far had Aranea fallen from her second chance at life? Part of her wanted to rip her apart from the inside out as she watched her break into tiny unrecognizable fragments.That would prove entertaining for a short while, but how long until it became old? 

She took it upon herself to find Aranea’s ghost, and she refused to stop until she finally came across the right one. Her session’s Aranea was obvious by the shame that showed in the creases below her dead and white eyes: impossible for the trained eye to miss. Despite how much Aranea talked it off, spouting verbal affirmations in support of herself, Damara knew self doubt when she saw it. 

And it was then that an idea sparked in her mind, sinister and unrepentant. Aranea would be useful on her side. Not only was she powerful, but she was vulnerable. If there was another soul to pave the way for the coming Lord of Time, then who better than the one who had been defeated by the Alternian Empress, the one who had been shown firsthand that fighting against him was a fruitless effort? It made sense in her mind, every piece connecting into a cohesive whole that gave Damara what felt much like control. 

But Aranea wasn’t ready yet. 

Damara knew that attempting to falsely befriend her would prove futile. Aranea was well aware of Damara’s ill intentions, and she had been for some time. Convincing Aranea to join her was a foolish action to attempt immediately. No, she had to wait. 

She had to prepare her. 

It began with frequent visits. Damara asked one-word questions to give Aranea enough reason to talk. She had no intention of comforting her, and fortunately, she never found herself in that position. She needed to get Aranea to say enough for Damara to find something to use against her. Aranea provided more than enough, and Damara slowly began provoking her with unexpected and harsh digs that made her re-evaluate her own identity. Her usual answers weren’t enough to release flood of aggression she wanted. For maintaining such an innocent appearance, Aranea Serket proved tough to crack.

“You fail. Why?”

“Hear talk about Aranea. Very hateful.”

“So sad. Do not fight back?”

“Give up fast?”

Aranea answered with a look of annoyance every time, but she did not hesitate to answer every question in full. Damara heard plenty of excuses the further her facade cracked, and while Aranea would passive aggressively shoot insults Damara’s way, they were amusingly ineffective. 

Despite feeling in control, there were certain qualities about Aranea that changed Damara’s disposition entirely. Her inability to stop talking, although it aligned with Damara’s plan, was enough to frustrate her to consider ditching her efforts altogether. To make things worse, when Damara left her alone, she was unable to stop thinking of her. 

She couldn’t stop thinking of her stupid irrelevant glasses, her grating voice, the way she remained so outwardly civil despite repeated humiliation. Damara wanted to break her. She wanted to make her angry. The angrier she was at the members of their session, the more likely she was to turn completely against them. 

It was Damara’s idea to begin sparring, to which Aranea agreed to on the grounds that she was helping Damara. Aranea was no fighter in comparison to her mental prowess, but her strategy remained enough to survive against Damara. Her mind control abilities had no place in the ring, and to Damara’s surprise, she respected that particular boundary.

The first instance in which they fought each other was by far the most memorable. Aranea’s confidence progressively dragged down as the fight went on with the conversation they held in between. It was difficult for her to keep up, considering that Aranea was by no means a fighter. She had proven herself much more tactical, a strategist, a manipulator. 

“Not trying. Try harder.” 

With every hit, Aranea staggered a little more, and it was obvious neither of them knew the fine details of the art of hand-to-hand combat. Every hit was shameful and awkward, from two individuals that never sparred. Damara was only familiar with fighting to kill as she had done with both Rufioh and Meenah, but her rage for them was unlike this toxic dance with Aranea. 

There had been only a handful of lucky hits, including Damara nailing Aranea’s jaw hard enough for her mouth to fill with blue blood. Aranea had managed to knee Damara in the gut. As Damara felt Aranea’s stance wavering, she only pushed harder. 

“Give up too easily. Maybe why Aranea die again.”

Aranea quipped back until she became too winded to do so. They were smart retorts -- seemingly innocent statements fueled with venom. Damara began to feel dizzy, her lungs tight and constrained. There reached a point when Aranea toppled over Damara, and the two of them went careening to the ground, Damara’s horns smacking against the pavement. 

The pain was excruciating, but she had fared worse. And with one last ounce of strength, Aranea’s shaking arms pinned Damara’s shoulders to the ground. 

A pleased smirk appeared on Aranea’s bruised face. In between breaths, her voice, barely audible, escaped bloody lips just inches above Damara’s own.

“Anything. To say. Now?” 

Despite her blurred vision, there was something strangely appealing about the frustratingly stubborn troll on top of her. With her plan on hold, she leaned her head up just enough to kiss her, hard.

And after only a couple of seconds, Aranea kissed her back.


End file.
